


Nothing Good Comes from Being Gone

by SinnohRemaker



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnohRemaker/pseuds/SinnohRemaker
Summary: Hajime is stressed and can’t sleep after the third trial, and finds himself tossing and turning in bed. After deciding to investigate a noise outside his cabin, he finds an injured Nagito and does his best to tend to his wounds and help him out.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 6
Kudos: 349
Collections: Faye’s Favourites, Quality Fics





	Nothing Good Comes from Being Gone

The sound of waves crashing against the beach settled over the island, uninterrupted as its residents retired to their cabins to sleep. It was peaceful, if a bit eerie, the stillness of the island that they all inhabited. The waves usually were a comfort to Hajime, almost like a serene lullaby that soothed him into the confines of sleep, but tonight was different. 

He was uneasy, tossing and turning on his mattress with the sheets draped over him haphazardly. The weight of Mikan Tsumiki’s trial still hung heavily over his mind and like a thick fog, one that refused to disperse to allow him any clarity. He’d been shaken to the core at the death of two of his friends, and had been heartbroken that he couldn’t save Ibuki and Hiyoko. Mikan had wanted to create the illusion that he could have stopped their deaths, but there was nothing he could have done. Regardless, he couldn’t help feeling guilty, even more so when he realized he could have noticed Mikan’s instability sooner. If he had realized that she’d succumbed to the Despair Disease, maybe all three of them would still be alive.

It was pointless to dwell on the unchangeable events of the past, but he still found himself tossing and turning. He’d considered Mikan to be a good friend, right up until he’d realized that she was the perpetrator of these horrific crimes at the trial. He should have realized something was going on with her, and paid closer attention to her. Pain curled in his gut as he pondered how he’d failed Ibuki and Hiyoko, and how meaningless their deaths were. It was such a powerless feeling, watching all his friends drop like flies and being unable to stop it. 

He vowed to himself that he would pay close attention to all of his remaining friends. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to die a pointless death in this fucked up killing game. He wouldn’t allow Monokuma to toy with their lives any longer. Whenever he revealed the next motive, he’d be ready to support the people he cared about with all of his heart. 

He wouldn’t allow another killing to happen.

Which is why his heart jolted when he heard a sound outside his cabin, causing him to sit upright in bed. He stumbled over to the window, and saw a figure outside his cabin, scarcely illuminated the moonlight. Without thinking, he rushed out of his cabin, turning on his porch light and preparing himself to go on the defensive. 

Nagito Komaeda gasped and shielded his face with his hands, frozen like a deer in headlights. Hajime gaped at him with an open mouth, unblinking and dumbfounded, at the disheveled state Nagito was in. His jacket was soaked pink with blood, wrapped loosely around his left arm. His other arm was braced to his chest, also dripping pink with blood, as it was oozing from various lacerations all across his forearm and wrist. He was limping, and blood was staining the fabric of his shirt and jeans as well. 

Despite being gravely injured, Nagito smiled, and offered a feeble wave in Hajime’s direction. 

“Ah, Hajime! Why are you awake at such an hour?” 

He asked casually, as if there wasn’t a magenta puddle of blood starting to pool beneath him. 

“What happened to you?” 

Hajime demanded, concern lacing his voice. 

“Oh, I just got a little bit wounded, so I was heading to the store to get some bandages.” 

He responded, as nonchalant as ever. Hajime gave him an astonished stare, unsure of what to make of the situation. After assessing Nagito’s injuries briefly, he stepped barefoot onto the walkway and towards Nagito, extending his hand. 

“I have bandages in my cabin. You should probably let me dress your wounds.” 

Hajime offered, still sounding unsure. Nagito chuckled and shook his head. 

“You’re so kind, Hajime. I really appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that for me. I’m not worth your time. You shouldn’t have to waste your energy on helping someone like me.” 

Nagito said warmly, before attempting to limp away. In a show of quick reflexes, Hajime grabbed him by the hand and spun him around, finally able to catch a glimpse of the full view of Nagito’s face in the light. 

His white hair was tangled and dull, and his eyes were red and puffy, with his under-eyes clearly rubbed raw from crying. Hajime choked on a gasp, and began to pull Nagito inside his cabin, dragging the lanky boy behind him. 

“Do you want to bleed out? You’re in no state to walk all the way to the store, especially this late at night. What were you thinking?”

Hajime reprimanded, squeezing his hand in his. Nagito didn’t seem to object, which was good, but Hajime could feel the slippery tack of blood coating Nagito’s hand, and began to feel a little nauseous. 

He led Nagito inside and flicked on the lights, sitting the white haired boy down on his bed. He didn’t care if his sheets were soiled by the onslaught of blood, or that Nagito was tracking bloody shoe prints everywhere. All that mattered is that he was safe. 

Working deftly, Hajime retrieved a towel from the bathroom and used it to form a compress against Nagito’s right arm, and began to try to pull the dark green jacket away from his left arm. Nagito gripped the jacket tightly, refusing to allow Hajime to see his injury. 

“I can’t let you see...” 

Nagito whimpered, looking ashamed. Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose between the pads of his forefingers, then gave a resigned sigh. 

“You’re stressing me, Nagito. Please let me see so I can help you. I need to stop the bleeding before I can apply any bandages.”

Nagito shook his head almost violently. 

“P-please, no...” 

He whispered, voice quivering with notes of fear. With a mixture of frustration and worry churning within him, Hajime grabbed him by the shoulders and looked intently into his eyes, unflinching and strong. 

“Why won’t you let me see?” 

Hajime asked, his tone gentle and unwavering. Nagito’s eyes were watering, but he bit his lip and forced a tremulous smile. 

“Hajime, you‘re so empathetic and generous to spend your time helping f-filth like me. I’m unworthy to be in your presence. Thank you, thank you...” 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he ducked and attempted to hide his face. Hajime cupped his chin and tilted his head ever so slightly, trying desperately to maintain contact. 

“Please look at me. I want to see you.” 

Hajime whispered, his voice barely audible. Nagito complied hesitantly, gazing at Hajime with tear glazed eyes. 

“You aren’t unworthy. You aren’t filth, or scum, or trash, or anything like that. I don’t understand you, but I don’t want to lose you. Please let me help you. I promise that you deserve the help. I’m not going to let you suffer and die. I-“

Hajime’s speech was interrupted by Nagito throwing his arms around him, smothering him in a hug. Nagito buried his face into Hajime’s shoulder and wept, voice catching in his throat as he tried to express his gratitude. 

Hajime rubbed his back, hushing him quietly and pulling him close. 

“It’s going to be okay. I’m here, and I promise I won’t leave until you feel better.” 

He murmured, stroking his back tenderly, kneading his hands into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel Nagito trembling against his body, his entire form shaking and quivering. 

“I’m s-sorry, I-I’m s-so sorry...” 

Nagito hiccuped, voice wavering as he tried desperately not to break down completely sobbing. His efforts were futile, however, as tears continued to gush down his cheeks and his words became more and more distorted as he continued to attempt to apologize. 

“It’s all going to be okay. I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Hajime murmured, snuggling his trembling form close. He waited until Nagito’s breathing evened out before pulling away, not wanting to upset him further. He tugged gently at the fabric of the jacket wrapped around his arm, gauging for a reaction before proceeding any further. The dark green cloth fell away from his arm, and Hajime had to suppress a gasp when he saw the injuries there. 

Nagito had cut the word “worthless” deep into his flesh, along with several other deep, obviously self inflicted gashes on his wrist and forearm. Blood was still oozing from the wounds, so Hajime knew he had to work quickly. He wiped the cuts down with a damp washcloth, biting his lip as he saw Nagito wince and suck in air through his teeth. 

“Sorry, this will sting.”

Hajime whispered, carefully mopping up the blood. 

“I’m fine. I deserve it anyways.” 

Nagito muttered bitterly, eyes dark and glistening with tears. Hajime shook his head, cautiously wiping at each individual cut until the blood flow stopped. 

“Please don’t say that, Nagito. Nobody deserves this kind of pain. I don’t want you to have to suffer like this.” 

Hajime retrieved a roll of bandages from his bedside drawer, and began to wrap them around Nagito’s arm, frowning as he looked over the word that had been sliced into the pale skin. 

Silence befell the two for a brief moment, before Hajime decided to speak up. 

“You aren’t worthless.” 

He announced, wrapping the bandages deftly around the entirety of his forearm. Nagito inhaled shakily, a sob catching in the back of his throat. He shook his head, before wiping away some tears with the back of his hand. 

“P-please don’t lie to me, Hajime. You d-don’t have to lie to me to m-make me feel better.” 

Hajime reached up and cupped Nagito’s cheek, feeling the wetness of tears soak into his palm. 

“Why would I lie to you?” 

Hajime asked soothingly, before tying off the bandage on Nagito’s arm. Hajime pressed a gentle kiss against the bandages, almost reflexively. Nagito fell quiet, aside from the occasional hiccuping and sniffling. 

“I’m sorry, Hajime. I must be such a burden to you. To everyone.” 

Nagito whispered, drawing an unsteady breath. 

“Why would you think that, Nagito?” 

Hajime questioned, carefully running his fingers along the bandages. 

“You all must d-despise me. All of the Ultimates must utterly loathe me. I’m nothing but a n-nuisance. In the class trial, I was nothing but an annoyance. I’m useless garbage, not even worthy of talking in the presence of an Ultimate. All I do is say things that make everyone hate me even more, anyways.” 

Nagito sucked in a breath before continuing, voice wavering with sadness. 

“I deserve it. I d-deserve everyone’s hatred and scorn. I forgot my place, as a worthless individual amongst the talented, so I had to remind myself of my lack of worth. I’m filth. Disgusting, unloveable trash. I... I hate myself so much. I wish I was dead. I wish Mikan had k-killed me along with Hiyoko and Ibuki. Or had killed me instead of them.” 

Nagito broke down sobbing breathlessly, unable to continue speaking. Hajime wrapped his arms around Nagito’s middle and squeezed gently, pulling him into an embrace. 

“Nagito, I... I don’t hate you...” 

Hajime murmured, rubbing his back tenderly and allowing him to bury his face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. 

“W-Why? You should h-hate me. I deserve to be hated. I want t-to be hated, so please just... s-say that you hate me.” 

Nagito whimpered, chest heaving as more tears poured down his face. 

“I care about you.”

Hajime whispered, reaching up to pet Nagito’s hair affectionately. Nagito howled, the desolate sound muffled into the fabric of Hajime’s shirt. 

“You’re w-wrong. You shouldn’t w-waste your energy c-caring about scum like me. You’d be so much b-better off without me. Everyone would be. I’m not even worthy of being a stepladder to help you reach a bright, shining hope. I’m not even g-good enough for that. I would be better off rotting away to nothing, and b-being forgotten by everyone.” 

Nagito bawled, before whispering. 

“I shouldn’t even be alive.”

Hajime moved sit against the headboard of the bed, and shifted to pull Nagito onto his lap, cuddling him close. He was able to lift the lanky boy with relative ease, holding him tight and caressing him lovingly.

“I’m happy you’re alive, Nagito.” 

He announced firmly, running his fingers through Nagito’s soft white hair. Nagito sobbed grossly, curling up to Hajime and nestling his face into the crook of his neck. 

“W-Why?” 

Nagito wailed, his breathing on the verge of complete hyperventilation. 

“Because I don’t want to lose another person I love. I love everyone on this island. You’re all so dear to me. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. That’s why I’m so happy I was able to help you. You could have easily bled out if someone hadn’t helped you. I would be so miserable if you died. Everyone would miss you so much. I’m so happy...”

Hajime gulped, fighting back tears. 

“I’m so happy that you’re still alive.” 

Hajime whispered, his voice hitching. Nagito almost laughed, but found that he didn’t have it in him. 

“I know I could have b-bled out. That’s the only reason I decided to try to fix up my injuries. I was going to k-kill myself, but I realized you would all be burdened with having to dispose of a bloody, messy corpse. You would likely have to w-waste time with a class trial, even though it was just a suicide. I-I don’t want... to be a burden anymore.” 

Nagito squalled, relaxing slightly as Hajime coddled him like a child. 

“Oh my God, Nagito. I’m so sorry.” 

Hajime whispered, petting the back of Nagito’s head, ruffling the white hair. 

“D-don’t feel sorry for me. I should be hated, not pitied...”

Nagito stuttered, sniffling and sobbing as he spoke.

“Stop saying such awful things about yourself, please. It’s breaking my heart...” 

Hajime murmured, squeezing Nagito’s trembling form tightly against his body. He felt Nagito shiver slightly, and began lowering his hands to massage his back lovingly. 

“I’m s-sorry, Hajime... I... I wish I could help it, but these self loathing thoughts won’t go away. I can’t get all of his hatred out of my head...” 

Nagito cried softly, curling himself against Hajime’s warm body and weeping uncontrollably. 

“Would it make you feel better if I told you how important you are to everyone? How important you are to me? You’re worth so much more than you think you are. You mean so much to me, and I would never forgive myself anything bad happened to you.” 

Hajime murmured, rubbing Nagito’s back firmly and holding him close. Nagito choked on a gasp, bawling unceremoniously and burying his face into Hajime’s shoulder. Hajime’s fingers trailed lovingly across the nape of Nagito’s neck, and the white haired boy shivered at the gentle touch. 

“Your existence is valuable. You’re a worthwhile human being, and you deserve to find the happiness that you’re lacking. You deserve to be completely at peace with yourself. I’m sorry that you’ve been denied that, Nagito. I wish I could love you enough to make you love yourself. I want to help you recover from all of this. It will get better, I promise it will.” 

Hajime whispered tenderly, hugging Nagito’s trembling form tightly against his own. Nagito was choking on his words, desperately fumbling for something to say. Hajime hushed him, wrapping his arms around his head and trying to run his fingers through his hair. His fingers got caught in the knots and tangles, but he kept caressing it regardless. He planted a kiss on the top of his head, wondering to himself if Nagito could even feel it through all of the volume. 

“Do you want to stay with me for tonight? I’m sure it would help you feel better.”

Hajime asked in a low, soothing tone of voice, pressing Nagito up against his chest. Nagito sighed contentedly, his flashes fluttering and his body relaxed. 

“I’m flattered by your offer… I’m truly unworthy of your kindness. I wish I could accept, but I could never impose-“

“You know what? Scratch that. Let me rephrase myself. I want you to stay with me for tonight. I enjoy your company, and I want to make sure you’re safe. Is that alright with you?”

Nagito appeared to be stunned absolutely speechless for a moment, before nodding with a tearful smile. 

“I’d really like that…”

He whimpers, scrubbing at the tear tracks on his cheeks with the underside of his palm. Hajime leaned in to pepper some kisses across his forehead, watching as Nagito just closed his eyes and hummed contentedly. 

“You can borrow some of my pajamas. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch, so we can share my bed, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Nagito smiled brightly at his words, watching fondly as Hajime began digging through his drawers and tossed a worn t shirt and a pair of fuzzy pajama pants at him. 

“They might not fit perfectly, but it’s probably more comfortable.”

Hajime mumbled, stretching and yawning. Nagito practically beamed with happiness as he accepted the clothes from Hajime, his face appearing to be almost radiant. Hajime respectfully averted his gaze as Nagito changed, and immediately wrapped his arms around Nagito again when he flopped down on to the bed. 

“So nice...”

Nagito purred, practically half asleep already. Hajime kneaded his hands into the other boy’s back soothingly, pressing the occasional lazy kiss against his cheek. Their limbs became entangled together, Nagito’s arms draped over him haphazardly as he began to drift off, and their legs intertwined beneath the sheets. Hajime waited patiently until his breathing began to even out, before hugging him tightly against his chest, mentally reaffirming that Nagito was alright, and that he was still right here with him. The stress of coming so close to losing him eventually gave way to the omnipresent force of exhaustion ebbing away at his strength and gnawing at his conscious mind. As his ability to form coherent thoughts had almost fully abandoned him and drawn him within the confines of sleep, he mustered up the energy to press a kiss against Nagito’s temple. 

“I love you so much…”

Hajime breathed, almost grateful that the boy resting peacefully on his chest couldn’t hear him. He wanted Nagito to know how loved and appreciated he was, but there’s no way that he’d ever accept something like that, especially in his current state of mind. Proving Nagito’s worth to himself wasn’t an easy task, but if it meant that he got to see more of those rare, genuine little smiles, it would be worth it. Hajime wasn’t going to stop trying, because although it was wishful thinking, maybe he’d be able to get through to him one day, and he’d be able to instill a sense of happiness in him that wasn’t so tenuous and fleeting. For now, all he can really do is hope that Nagito is unburdened and tranquil as he slumbers deeply in Hajime’s arms, and let the thought of Nagito finding ephemeral joy within a dream comfort him as he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> GOD, I’m so unbelievably predictable. I swear, I don’t exclusively write hurt/comfort with themes of mental health issues, it just helps me cope with my own stupid personal problems. I started this way back when I first got into Danganronpa, and I don’t like it very much, but it’s completely finished so I might as well post it somewhere. I’m going to be working on several multi-chapter Komahina fics, as well as some fics for other DR ships, and some other fandoms too.


End file.
